


Baby Talk

by wheel_pen



Series: Darkwood Eastport [5]
Category: Lie to Me (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fish out of Water, Magic, Polygamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cal helps calm baby George, and he and Gillian discuss adopting American infants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Talk

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored; that’s just how I do things. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe. I’ve given a lot of thought to the Darkwood culture, so if something seems confusing, feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy!

_First year_

Cal stuck his head around the doorway to the nursery. “Yes?” Gillian turned to face him, holding the squalling George in her arms. “Oh, you didn’t call me,” Cal realized from her expression. “I thought you were walking in circles.”

“Oh, I probably was,” Gillian sighed. That was the signal they had developed over the years to summon one another, since they could track each other’s movements so well. Of course, they generally didn’t need to employ it when there were servants to carry messages for them. “But since you’re here,” she went on, “you can try calming George.”

Cal took the baby obligingly as Gillian sank into her glider rocker. It had seemed to soothe George, but it sure felt good to her, especially when she put her feet up on the matching ottoman. Ria had gone with a ladybug theme for her new American nursery—bold red and black with a little green. But Gillian had chosen a gentle, pastel nursery rhyme motif that used much the same colors as her Noah’s ark nursery back in the Valley. Darkwood ladies rarely got a second chance to design their nurseries, but of course the move to America had necessitated it. And since baby furniture and accessories were plentiful in America—and the less they had to haul over from the Valley, the better—Gillian had retained only a few sentimental items from her nursery’s first incarnation. She liked the continuity between the two designs, though—lots of animals, a literary connection, the occasional moral overtone.

Cal meanwhile was standing in the center of the room, slowly pivoting with George in his arms and watching the baby’s reaction closely. “I presume you eliminated all the obvious possibilities?”

“Yes,” Gillian assured him. “He’s not hungry, he’s not tired, he doesn’t need to be changed…”

“Maybe he’s bored,” Cal suggested tactlessly. “You should have gone with the neon rainbow theme I found.”

“I already tried looking for something he was interested in,” Gillian added, referring to Cal’s current activity. “I didn’t see any—“

“Oh ho,” Cal interrupted, following George’s line of sight suddenly. It led to the crib. “Move that blanket around,” he instructed Gillian, and she stood and lifted a pale green blanket tossed over the side of the crib. “Nope, not it,” Cal decided. He glanced back at the crib to see what else might have transfixed the bawling infant. “Hmm… how about that stuffed rabbit?”

“Oh, he doesn’t like this,” Gillian replied, picking up the toy. “I just put it in the crib to decorate it. He never—“ They both immediately noticed how George’s gaze followed the toy in Gillian’s hand and she brought it closer to him. His uncoordinated arms flailing, George gripped the rabbit as soon as he could reach it and began gnawing on its ear.

“Huh,” Gillian said, mystified. Then she gave Cal a smile and a hug, unperturbed that he had succeeded where she had failed. “You’re brilliant!”

“You were too close to the problem,” Cal assessed, rocking the still slightly fussy baby—residual distress, he judged. “You need to maintain a clinical distance to properly evaluate the expressions.”

“Maintain a clinical distance? From our _son_?” Gillian remarked gently, rubbing the back of the baby’s head.

“Hmm, that didn’t come out right,” Cal admitted. “Let’s sit down.” Still holding George, the two of them sat down on the powder-blue couch under the window.

“What?” Gillian prompted, seeing from this expression that Cal had a different, more serious subject in mind to discuss.

“Adoption,” he replied simply, and Gillian sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “The procedures are quite a bit more complex in this country—“

“I know, I read all the literature you gave me,” Gillian assured him. “I can’t believe they say it can take _years_ to get a baby!”

“And years to finalize the legal part,” Cal added. “Even if we went back to the Valley for a baby, the courts here still have to approve it.”

“Well, we’re not going to let that stop us,” Gillian decided firmly. She gave Cal a look. “We _aren’t_ , are we?”

“I just don’t want to see you disappointed, love,” he told her. “All kinds of strange things can happen here. Maybe it would be better to—“

“No.” There was no doubt in Gillian’s expression, not that Cal had expected to find any. “I want another baby, Cal. We’ll start with one and see what the process is like here.”

He wasn’t surprised by her decision. “Alright. I think it will help that we aren’t limiting ourselves to healthy, white babies—“

“But they have to be babies,” Gillian reminded him. “As young as possible. No older than, hmm, four months. So much happens to them right at the beginning, and I don’t want to miss it…”

Darkwood clans were frequent adopters of children, especially older children—abandoned, unwanted children were sadly easy to pick up from streets and orphanages around the world and bring to the Valley. But Gillian wanted infants. She had lost an infant once and didn’t intend to lose even that stage of life with another.

“Well, we should discuss our options and find an agency soon, then,” Cal pointed out. “Get the approval process started yet this year, so we won’t be held up by that.” Ria was probably going to have another baby sometime next year; Gillian would want to adopt one the year after that. “We should practice our answers to those homestudy questions,” he added with a smirk. “Be prepared to bare our souls in exchange for a child.”

“I guess they’re just trying to make sure the children get good homes,” Gillian sighed, “but it does sound quite invasive.” In the Valley, such things were far simpler—you picked out a child, someone recorded that he or she was now part of your clan, and that was it. Oh, sometimes with older children or those who had had difficult pasts, there was a certain transition period to make sure everyone was compatible and understood the issues involved—Cal had facilitated many of those, as had his spouses. But the servants were usually pretty good matchmakers. And there certainly wasn’t any kind of legal process to complete afterwards, or approval process beforehand—just by living in the Valley, you were pretty much approved.

But if Gillian was determined to jump through these new hoops, then Cal planned to be right there beside her. And it helped that they would take even a baby with potentially serious health problems—the protected environment of a Darkwood home would be very restorative, Cal thought, just like the Valley was. Although if any documented American children began regrowing lost organs or limbs, as they did in the Valley, people might really start to wonder.


End file.
